


A Simple Gift

by KingpinCobblepot (Theonlylucysaxon)



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/M, a little bit of smut ish ness, all super innocent, just some fluff, tooth rotting sweetness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 09:06:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15793392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theonlylucysaxon/pseuds/KingpinCobblepot
Summary: The origin of something Gertrud has buried in the back of her closet.(AKA That time Elijah made Gertrud a dress because tailor. )





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as Tumblr drabble and here we are.

“No! Oswald, you may not touch that, my precious boy.” 

Gertrud chided the little boy who was buried deep inside her closet, hiding during a tantrum when she insisted he eat all of his borscht before dessert. He had stomped his foot and huffed and rushed off to her bedroom where he liked to hide because it was bigger than his closet. In his huffing and puffing, he had found an old dress– very old. Buried behind layers of lace frocks and thick velvet pieces that all covered her from neck to ankle in the modest fashion for which she was so well known. But this dress was different. It sparkled. 

But not from sequence.. No, the fabric itself was glittering, a golden tinged damask brocade that was overlain with a rich pale blue color that was remarkably reminiscent of another color the little boy couldn’t really place. He had grabbed the material in his five year old fists and pressed his face into it when feeling how soft it was. he’d never seen anything so pretty before. 

Gertrud who failed at few things in her life, would firstly admit to being impossibly unskilled at disciplining her beloved little Cobblepot. He looked up at her with that beautiful face and those big blue eyes and her heart melted inside her chest. Few things could she ever be truly strict on. And yet when Oswald, after being told not to hold the garment, continued to toy with it– Gertrud managed a good bit of stern-ness into her tone. 

“Oswald COBBLEPOT.” 

His eyes went wide and he immediately dropped the fabric only to have his eyes fill with fresh crocodile tears. She of course stepped in to scoop up the little boy, holding him close to her chest and soothing away his tears. He would have only a few bites left of dinner and then be rewarded with dessert--- but he’d never again touch that dress. When he was an adult, he might wonder about this memory, but he never asked. Gertrud would have lied anyway.

The truth was far too treasured an intimacy for her to share even with her beloved boy.


	2. Chapter 2

She had been working at the Van Dahl estate for over a year when the head cook departed and she was permitted to take over. She had insisted she didn’t need an assistant, after all the family of three was an easy to manage menu and she liked the extra pay she received in lieu of hiring a second person. 

Besides, if she had an assistant then she’d have no excuse to ask Elijah to help her carry groceries or chop vegetables. The excuse was nice. It was the little pretense they clung to because neither yet was brave or bold enough to admit their feelings to one another so openly-- even though she felt rather certain of his fondness and certainly hoped he knew well of hers. 

A stolen kiss here and there, a note safely tucked into her apron pocket or conversely into his jacket…. Their love was a secret, tentative and well hidden. But Gertrud treasured it all the same. So rare in fact, was the happenstance of them getting time alone together that when Elijah slipped a note to her during dinner service, requesting that she sneak and meet him in the drawing room after his parents were asleep-- it had her more than a bit surprised. 

She could hear the scolding voice of her mother ringing in her ears, insisting men only were after one thing when they sought a woman’s unescorted company. Ah! But her mother had never met such a man as Elijah, Gertrud was certain. He was so kind and so sweet. He would never invite her anywhere with less than honorable intentions in mind…. And even if such intentions were on his mind, had she not considered the very same possibilities in the darkest nights when she lay alone in the servants bedrooms. When she brushed fingers over her bare stomach and softly murmured his name into the moonlit emptiness of nights spent alone and perhaps spent in longing? Gertrud worried her lip and her cheeks flushed as she considered the very scandalous nature of such a notion.

Oh what a harlot she was! Her mother would be put to shame to see her. Barely twenty three, and considering such a manner of impropriety in the middle of day. And with her employer nonetheless! Of course, she was not exactly a virgin. No, at seventeen such an honor belonged to the son of the grocer next door. The one who brought deliveries to her mother and always smelled distinctly of sweat and a sawdust from the thick wooden crates he hauled for his father. He had been beautiful and charming but nowhere near as tender or as sweet as Gertrud believed he would have been with her. 

Not as she knew Elijah would be, as he already was in all ways. With all things. Never had the man raised a hand that was anything but wholly gentle. Such was his way, and such was why she found herself unable to deny the deep love for him which blossomed inside of her chest. Warming her nights and filling her dreams while also making her girlish heart flutter even now as she considered what this meeting tonight could be in regards to.  
Shaking her head, and getting back to her task of cleaning the dinner dishes-- Gertrud was certain of one thing. In spite of all her hesitation, wild horses would not keep her from meeting Elijah tonight.


	3. Chapter 3

There was a certain renewed nervousness for Elijah when he was scribbling the note at his dressing table before dinner. The various rejected copies scattered along the floor around him in all their crumpled mockery. He was never so eloquent as he wanted to be. Never. Something about her… it struck the words from his mind before he even had the chance to think them. 

She was just so beautiful. It was impossible to explain with any real degree of speech, especially given his proclivity for speechlessness in the wake of her presence. Those soft light curls that were always a mess and fighting from the ribbon prison she used to keep them out of the way as she worked-- the way they framed her face as though she were an angel... The curiosity of those round blue eyes as they looked at him with such a wide sense of admiration...The light of her smile as it brought Elijah more true and pure joy than he had known in all his years sheltered in this dreary house.  
Perhaps that was the only real way to explain it.

Her beauty came from the liveliness of her soul. Joy and cheerfulness emanated from within her and spilled into everything she touched. It flooded his home and his heart and gave rise to a hope he had never yet known before. In any real way at least. 

There was of course joy to be had in the feeling of a well tailored suit, the taste of a freshly baked cranberry tart, the soft breeze that whispered through the trees just outside the library windows on a cool spring evening-- But not a single pleasure of these could compare to the simple touch of Gertrud’s hand against his arm when they walked, the taste of her lips when he was given such a privilege to taste them, the way she whispered his name in their hushed conversations before his parents came down for breakfast in the morning. At the tender age of twenty three, Gertrud Kapelput was simply the greatest joy Elijah had known in his near quarter century of life.

But HOW to tell her as much and in so many words without sounding utterly hopeless and clumsy?

Besides the fact he was in fact utterly hopeless and indeed quite clumsy in the art of love. He had never… .Well, that isn’t to say he didn’t want to or hadn’t come close. At boarding school once a girl cornered him a party when he was 15 and pressed her body against his in the most delightful of ways. He had been too shy to ask just what to do and settled for his hands resting on her hips and his lips tracing the curve of her neck. She had been a really remarkably pretty girl…. And as such, her looks and perfume and the way she pressed just so against the unsure and inexperienced young man-- when he fumbled his way to follow her into the closet where so many of his friends hadn’t taken girls before him… Her hands wandered his body, tugging at his belt and it had all just been so thrilling and new and exciting and well…

She had turned from beautiful to cruel in moments when she laughed at him for his premature and less than satisfactory climax. He muttered a string of apologies with cheeks bright red. It was too late to take back though, and she then told all of her friends. Boys and girls alike teased him there after. He likewise lost all desire to pursue the act, for fear of such humiliation, rejection, and mockery recurring. 

But then there came Gertrud.

And for all the fears he had locked himself away behind, Elijah wanted so desperately to hold her and kiss her in much the same way he had done with another. Only he wanted more than other to perform to a proper standard, to give her all she could want of a lover. To give her everything she could want and satisfy every need she had… To ensure he could worship her body as she so deserved to be worshipped and in the glorious after glow, to sweep those near iridescent curls from her face and hear her tell him of her love. It was all he could think of some evenings…

But no. It wasn’t the point of this note. Or of their meeting tonight. Much the contrary, tonight was to offer Gertrud a more practical token of his affection. One had had been working on for months now and only finally finished a few days ago. It sat carefully wrapped in the corner, a simple twine tied over the plain blue paper so it almost looked like a poorly done parcel. This allowed it to be unnoticed by the maids and by his parents if either should ever have reason to enter his bedroom. 

Elijah heaved a fresh sigh as his mind, which had wandered so far from the purpose of the meeting, remained trapped imagining Gertrud in a state of being utterly undone and lust stricken sprawled in duvet of his bed. 

It would be another two hours, which included a bit of self gratification as well as a cold shower, all to focus on the task at hand and craft a very simple note for her. One which he hoped she would focus on instead of noticing how his hand trembled as he tucked it into her apron pocket while avoiding her eyes in favor of focusing on the story his father was telling.


	4. Chapter 4

7 dresses. 

Thats how many Gertrud tried on in her bedroom after dinner. She wasn’t sure what he could really want tonight, and his note had been so simple and so desperately vague. She half hated him for it. Not that it was truly possible to hate Elijah, but it was rather maddening all the same. How was she to know what sort of attire he would be expecting? Her fingers wrung at the hem of the sixth dress as it draped over her bed, atop the pile and she mentally berated herself for being so indecisive. Finally, she gave up the idea all together of changing and put back on her serving uniform from dinner. Only she left off her apron, so the word uniform only loosely described it. The basic blue color complimented her eyes, and the simple cap sleeves only made a certain adorableness come to light in accentuation of her petite figure. The buttons, which only ran from the waist of the dress up, were left half undone to allow the pale skin of her collar bone exposure while leaving plenty still to the imagination. She looked lovely in it.

She did decide to let her blonde ringlets dance freely for the night. Elijah after all was always toying with any he could get his hands on when they would have their little talks, and always complimenting her hair with the smallest change of detail. He seemed enamored by the very trait that the young woman had long ago come to believe was her most frustrating and impossible physical feature. After all, she could hardly do anything with it most days! But Elijah adored it. 

So wearing her hair down it obviously had to be. All curls and volume tumbling wildly down her back and just barely obedient enough to stay tucked behind her ears and out of her face. 

And then there was little more than to go down to the drawing room and wait. Elijah was always particularly bad at punctuality. Not on purpose, and not for any sense of self importance-- but simply he strove for a detailed sort of perfection that always took longer to achieve in any respect than he ever seemed to have imagined. It was part of his thoughtful sort of charm. 

It occurred to her in these moments as she waited for him, that the reason for this strange meeting could be.. Well, an unpleasant one. What if he didn’t want to see her anymore? What if this was the kindest way he knew to inform her of an end to their tentative torrid romance of stolen glances and rushed kisses? What if he realized he wanted more than a cook?

What if he was not so very in love with her as she believed or as she herself was in love with him?

She could have worked herself to tears on such thoughts alone had Elijah not joined her, with-- much to her relief- a smile on his face. He would not smile so if he was giving bad news, she considered. 

“I’m very please you came.” He said sheepishly and sat down beside her on the sofa, package in one hand as the other reached out to gently take hers.. “You look… Lovely as always, Gertrud.” And his tone was just breathless enough to reassure her that this meeting was definitely going to be a pleasant one.


End file.
